


Une Fête dans Mon Pantalon

by moxanna



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dominant Blackwall, F/M, POV Blackwall, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5077345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxanna/pseuds/moxanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor's new formal wear has Blackwall quite distracted at a party.</p><p>Or, a very different balcony scene at the end of an Orlesian ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Une Fête dans Mon Pantalon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for nsfw-grey.tumblr.com Smutty Fanfiction Contest. Prompt: Celebration
> 
> Update: This story tied for second runner up in the contest! Thanks for anyone who voted for it for Reader's Choice or left kudos/comments on here! The prize was a gorgeous sketch that I added to the work. <3  
> I promised myself that if this got 20 kudos, I'd add a second part. I hope to have the second chapter up by the end of the week, as well as some editing of the first chapter now that I don't have to work within the 2000 word limit.
> 
> No beta, and this is the first fic I've ever finished and posted, so please be kind!

_Maker's breath._

When the Herald of Andraste was announced at Duchess Clarisse de Montfort’s palace, Blackwall’s reaction was but a small fragment of the ensuing commotion. Audible gasps and whispers rippled in the wake of her promenade. No one present, himself included, had ever seen her don anything more formal than the Inquisition’s unflattering dress uniform, which was adamantly a step up from her usual heavy armor accessorized with a bucket of Venatori guts.

But tonight the mother of Empress Celine was hosting a grand ball dedicated to declaring her gratitude to the Herald for her daughter’s life, and apparently nothing but the most splendid Orlesian finery would do. And splendid she was. The silk amethyst gown cascaded perfectly over her muscular body; an embroidered corset highlighted her curves while proudly framing ample cleavage. The gems sewn into the neckline set her eyes aflame. Every perfectly painted line of her face, every carefully curled strand of her hair was artfully crafted to accentuate her already extraordinary beauty. She was a vision to rival Andraste herself.

After her dramatic entrance, Blackwall watched disdainfully as the Duchess lavished his Inquisitor with praise. What an outrageous waste of time. This farce was for the Duchess's benefit, not the Inquisition’s. Why couldn't she just send some forces or gold with a thank you letter like everyone else? Refugees were starving in the Hinterlands while these pretentious ponces ate themselves sick and snarked at each other's choice of shoes. Fucking Orlesians.

As usual, Blackwall kept to the edge of the crowd while his Inquisitor mingled, lest some noble or officer recognize him. Though he wasn’t at her side, his eyes followed her every move. There was something erotic about this drastic change of attire. The sensuality of the gown offered an exotic air to every small gesture. The way her tongue dragged across her lips to catch a stray drop of wine. How her head fell back when she laughed to expose the sensitive tendons of her neck. She subconsciously fondled the jewelry she was unused to wearing, tugging at her earlobes, playing with a delicate pendant. This drew his eyes downward to the firm flesh of her breasts, which jiggled obscenely at her slightest movement. She caught his eye as she pulled her thumb through her lips, savoring the last crumbs of a canapé. Blackwall shifted in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust his suddenly tight breeches. 

His Inquisitor eventually excused herself and made her way to his small table. As soon as her back was turned to the adoring masses, her polite mask fell into a disgruntled grimace.

"One word, Blackwall, and it shall be your last," she warned as she joined him at the table.

"Wouldn't dream of it, my lady," he said. She snorted.

“Though, I should say, you look- er- nice,” he managed. She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Nice?”

“Yeah, well, always in armor and all. It’s a… nice change.”  

“I see. You’ll forgive me if I don’t make a habit of this. I hear slaying dragons in a corset can be difficult,” she said sarcastically. His witty retort died on his tongue as she chuckled. Any coherent thought was lost in the movement of her breasts as her laugh sent them rippling once more. He was vaguely aware that she was still talking, but her proximity had brought an overwhelming aroma. Her familiar scent was mixed with a new spiced perfume that further clouded his thoughts. After a moment, he realized she had stopped talking and was looking at him expectantly.

"What? No scathing critique of Marquis Pellantaise's dubious character? Are you feeling well, Blackwall?" she asked with feigned concern. 

"Fine. I'm fine." He forced a chuckle. "Too much wine, I suppose."

"Better pace yourself," she lowered her voice and leaned in to speak directly into his ear. "I was hoping you could help me destroy this awful dress later tonight." She pulled away and gave him a coy smile.

"Right, I- please, excuse me, Inquisitor. I need to- get some air," he stuttered and abruptly left the table. He pushed his way through the crowd and out of the ballroom. He wound through the maze of hallways until he finally found a secluded balcony far removed from the main event.

Maker's balls, but he was pathetic. The Inquisitor shows off a bit of cleavage and suddenly he's ready to spill in his pants like a bloody teenager. He finally adjusted himself and spent a few minutes leaning against the railing and inhaling the cool night air. When at last he started to feel like he was fit for the general public, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Was it something I said?" He turned quickly to see his Inquisitor pulling the door shut behind her.

"What? No, of course not, my lady. I've just precious little patience for these affairs. Had to get out of there," he said lamely.

"You might've brought me with you. As soon as you left, the marquis cornered me again. If he asks for my hand one more time, Orlais will have another war on its hands."

He tried to answer, but she chuckled again and his gaze was derailed south once more, and with it, his train of thought. He managed a grunt. Her gaze turned to the lights and sounds coming from the front of the palace. They could still hear the music from their balcony.

"I don't suppose I could trouble you for another dance?"

He nodded and closed the distance between them to lay his hands on her in a familiar dancing posture. He led her through the slow movements, glad for any reason to hold her body against his. She pushed his self control to the breaking point when she planted a few short kisses up his neck and along his jaw. Then with the barest scrape of teeth on his earlobe, her hot breath in his ear whispered, "I meant what I said earlier. I had better find you in my quarters later." And he broke.

His hand left hers and fisted in her hair as he brought her into a demanding kiss. Surprise gave her a moment’s pause before she eagerly returned it. He was consumed by her quick tongue, her gentle teeth, and her roaming hands as he slowly backed her against the railing. With one quick movement, he grabbed her thighs and lifted her so she was sitting on the railing. He held her secure with one arm as his other hand made its way up her skirt. When his hand finished its ascent of her thigh, he found a most welcome surprise.

“You’re- not wearing any knickers?” he groaned into their kiss.

“Leliana said they would show through the dress,” she explained breathlessly. He made a vague note to buy Leliana the cutest sodding nug he could find when they returned to Skyhold. She hiked the dress up around her waist and spread her legs, allowing his hand more room for his explorations. She was already wet, and he lightly teased his fingers across her folds. She had her fingers tangled in his hair, kissing her way down his neck, and she moaned into his shoulder when he slipped a finger inside her. Another finger in, and she quickly got to work on his breeches. She roughly pulled them down just enough to free his cock from his smalls. She wrapped her legs around him and drew him closer.

"Blackwall, please," she whined.

Needing no further invitation, Blackwall withdrew his hand and gripped his cock. He lined himself up with her now dripping entrance and pushed in with a guttural moan. She wrapped her arms around him to steady herself, her head buried still in his shoulder. He thrust into her, slowly losing himself in the wild sounds she was making and the blissful feeling of her tight around him. After a few heated minutes, he dimly realized that he was losing himself a little too far, and a few moments more, his Inquisitor might well be in danger if he couldn't hold her up. He slid out of her, and before she could protest, flipped her and bent her over the railing. He gently kicked her feet apart and pushed himself back in.

This position afforded him a spectacular view of both her perfect ass and the Duchess's prized gardens. It occurred to him that they might not be as alone as they thought. He wound his fingers in the Inquisitor's hair again and leaned over her.

“Think anyone’s out there? Watching the Herald of Andraste get fucked by some common soldier,” he growled. She whined her response.

“Bet they see what a good little slut you are, so eager for my cock.” He wound his other hand around her waist and rubbed her where she was slick and swollen.

“They'll see this gorgeous cunt belongs to me.” She keened under him. “I can have it wherever, whenever I want it. I could bend you over your throne and fuck you before all of Skyhold, and you’d thank me and beg for more, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. He worked her harder and faster, in time with his thrusts.

“Good girl,” he growled. His hand left her hair and he forced in under the neckline of her gown to grope a breast. He could feel her tighten as he brought her closer to her release.

“Going to go back in there, go talk to all those prissy nobles, knowing that I just fucked you right and proper. Go back and talk to the good  _marquis_ still dripping with my seed, is that what you want?”

“Yes, Maker yes,” she breathed. She was taught, ready to snap. He worked her even faster. 

"You'll have to do better than that, _my lady_ ," he growled.

“Please, Blackwall, please.” She was barely whispering now. She repeated the beg in broken, incoherent gasps as she tumbled over the edge. She contracted around him and pushed back into him. When the contractions slowed and stopped, he withdrew a second time and pushed her against the wall behind them. He hiked one leg over his waist and fucked up into her like a rutting animal.

He buried his face into the beautiful breasts that had distracted him all night. He kissed and nibbled at her cleavage and growled a constant stream of profanities mixed with her name until he finally met his own climax. His thrusts stuttered as the hot waves of pleasure broke over him. When it had finally passed, he slowly came back to reality to find his Inquisitor limp in his arms. He cleared his throat uncertainly. Too often his mouth got carried away during sex, and he still half expected his Inquisitor to slap him for going too far. Instead, she sighed contentedly.

"Well. That's certainly one way to liven up a dull party," she chuckled.

“I’m here to serve.” He eased out of her and took a step back to assess the damage. The state of her must have been reflected in his face.

“That bad?”

“You may wish to find somewhere private to fix yourself up before you return to the party,” he admitted.

"I'll see what I can do. I suppose I better get back to it before the Duchess sends out a search party. What about you?"

“I think I’ll retire to your quarters, if it’s all the same to you. The party will hardly notice my absence.”

“I don’t blame you,” she said, then leaned in with his favorite coy smile. "But I'll see you later?"

"Anything for you, my lady."

And with that, and a quick kiss, she disappeared into the palace.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of things. There was a 2000 word limit, and I had to post this before I lost my nerve, so I'll probably edit this and add more once the contest is over. Sorry if it's a bit rushed or seems a little rough around the edges. If anyone actually likes it, I may write another chapter in which Blackwall unceremoniously discards the gown. If you liked this and want to see more (along with general fandom stuff), you can follow me on tumblr: moxanna.tumblr.com (Note: blog is NSFW)


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